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CABIN
AN D
:
\URENCE DUNBAR
University of California • Berkeley
Purchased from
HORACE DAVIS BEQUEST
Poems of
Cabin and Field
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Copyrightvi896-i899
Doddt Mead
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Copyright, 1895-1896
By The Century Company
®mber0ttg $regs
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
To
Bishop Henry C. Potter
and with him the friends
who were kind in my illness
; - •
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n
Contents
The Deserted Plantation Page 9
Hunting Song 31
Little Brown Baby . 43
Chris'mus is a-Comin' 55
Signs of the Times 67
Time to Tinker 'Round . 81
Lullaby '. ' . . . . 93
A Banjo Song 107
The Deserted Plantation
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Oh, de grubbin'-hoe 's a-rustin' in de co'nah,
An' de plow 's a-tumblin' down in de fiel',
While de whippoVill 'sa-wailin' lak a mou'nah
When his stubborn hea't is tryin' ha'd to yieF.
In de furrers whah de co'n was allus waving
Now de weeds is growin' green an' rank an' tall ;
An' de swallers round' de whole place is a-bravin'
•j
Lak dey thought deir folks had allus owned it all
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An' de big house stands all quiet lak an' solemn,
Not a blessed soul in pa'lor, po'ch, er lawn ;
Not a guest, ner not a ca'iage lef to haul 'em,
Fu' de ones dat turned de latch-string out air gone*
**
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An' de banjo's voice is silent in de quarters,
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D' ain't a hymn ner co'n-song ringin' in de air ;
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But de murmur of a branch's passin' waters
Is de only soun' dat breks de stillness dere*
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Whah 's de da'kies, dem dat used to be a-dancin'
Ev'ry night befo' de ol' cabin do9 ?
Whah 's de chillun, dem dat used to be a-prancin*
Er a-rollin' in de san' er on de flo' ?
2J
Whah 's olf Uncle Mordecai an' Uncle Aaron ?
Whah's Aunt Doshy, Sam, an' Kit, an' all de
res'?
Whah 's ol' Tom de da'ky fiddlah, how 's he farin' ?
^s.^1
Whah 's de gals dat used to sing an' dance de
Gone ! not one o' dem is leP to tell de story ;
Dey have leP de deah oP place to fall away
Could n 't one o' dem dat seed it in its glory
Stay to watch it in de hour of decay ?
25
Dey have lef de ol' plantation to de swallers,
But it hoPs in me a lover till de las' ;
Fu' I fin' hyeah in de memory dat follers
All dat loved me an' dat I loved in de pas'.
27
So I '11 stay an' watch de deah ol' place an' tend it
Ez I used to in de happy days gone by.
Twell de othah Mastah thinks it 's time to end it,
Hunting Song
Tek a cool night, good an' cleah,
Skiff o' snow upon de groun' ;
Jes' 'bout fall-time o' de yeah
Wen de leaves is dry an' brown ;
Tek a dog an' tek a axe,
Tek a lantu'n in yo' han',
Step light whah de switches cracks,
Fu' dey 's huntin' in de Ian'.
Down th'oo de valleys an' ovah de hills,
Into de woods whah de 'simmon-tree grows,
Wakin' an' skeerin' de po' whippo' wills,
Huntin' fu' coon an' fu' 'possum we goes.
35
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Blow dat ho'n dah loud an' strong,
Call de dogs an' da'kies neah;
Mek its music cleah an' long,
So de folks at home kin hyeah.
Blow it twell de hills an' trees
Sen's de echoes tumblin' back ;
Blow it twell de back'ard breeze
Tells de folks we 's on de track*
Coons is a-ramblin' an' 'possums is out ;
Look at dat dog ; you could set on his tail !
Watch him now — steady, — min' what you 's
about,
Bless me, dat animal 's got on de trail!
Listen to him ba'kin' now !
Dat means business, sho 's you bo'n;
Ef he 's struck de scent I 'low
Dat ere 'possum 's sholy gone*
Knowed dat dog fu' fo'teen yeahs,
An' I nevah seed him tail
Wen he sot dem flappin' eahs
An' went off upon a trail
Run, Mistah 'Possum, an' run, Mistah Coon,
No place is safe fu' yo' ramblin' to-night;
Mas' gin de lantu'n an' God gin de moon,
An' a long hunt gins a good appetite*
Look hyeah, folks, you hyeah dat change ?
Dat ba'k is sharper dan de res'.
Dat ere soun' ain't nothin' strange, —
Dat dog 's talked his level bes'*
Somep'n' 's treed, I know de soun'.
Dah now, — wha 'd I tell you ? see !
Dat ere dog done run him down ;
Come hyeah, he'p cut down dis tree*
Ah, Mistah Tossum, we got you at las' —
Need n't play daid, laying dah on de groun' ;
Pros' an' de 'simmons has made you grow fas', —
Won't he be fine when he 's roasted up brown !
Little Brown Baby
Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes,
Come to yo' pappy an' set on his knee*
What you been doin', suh — makin' san' pies ?
Look at dat bib — you 's ez du'ty ez me.
Look at dat mouf — dat 's merlasses, I bet ;
Come hyeah, Maria, an' wipe off his han's.
Bees gwine to ketch you an' eat you up yit,
Bein' so sticky an' sweet — goodness lan's !
47
Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes,
Who 's pappy's darlin' an' who 's pappy's chile ?
Who is it all de day nevah once tries
Ft/ to be cross, er once loses dat smile ?
Whah did you git dem teef ? My, you 's a scamp !
Whah did dat dimple come Pom in yo' chin?
Pappy do' know yo — I b'lieves you 's a tramp ;
Mammy, dis hyeah 's some ol' straggler got in !
49
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Let 's th'ow him outen de do9 in de san',
We do' want stragglers a-layin' 'roun' hyeah
Let 's gin him Vay to de big buggah-man ;
I know he 's hidin' erroun' hyeah right neah.
Buggah-mant buggah-mant come in de do',
Hyeah's a bad boy you kin have fu' to eat.
Mammy an' pappy do' want him no mo't
Swaller him down f 'om his haid to his feet !
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Dah, now, I thought dat you'd hug me up close.
Go back, ol' buggah, you shan't have dis boy.
He ain't no tramp, ner no straggler, of co'se ;
He 's pappy's pa'dner an' playmate an' joy.
Come to you' pallet now — go to yo' res' ;
Wisht you could allus know ease an' cleah skies;
Wisht you could stay jes' a chile on my breas' —
Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes !
*S ,• "
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Chris'mus is a-Comin'
Bones a-gittin' achy,
Back a-feelin' col',
Han's a-growin' shaky,
Jes' lak I was ol'.
Pros' erpon de meddah
Lookin' mighty white ;
Snowdraps lak a feddah
Slippin' down at night*
Jes' keep things a-hummin'
Spite o' fros^ an' showahs,
Chris'mus is a-comin'
An' all de week is ouahs.
59
Little mas' a-axin',
"Who is Santy Glaus?
Meks it kin' o' taxin'
Not to brek de laws.
Chillun's pow'ful tryin'
To a pusson's grace
Wen dey go a-pryin'
Right on th'oo you' face
Down ermong yo' feelin's ;
Jes' 'pears lafc dat you
Got to change you' dealin's,
So 's to tell 'em true.
An9 my pickaninny —
Dreamin' in his sleep !
Come hyeah, Mammy Jinny ,
Come an' tek a peep.
Or Mas' Bob an' Missis
In dey house up daih
Got no chile lak dis is,
D' ain't none anywhaih.
Sleep, my little lammy,
Sleep, you little limb,
He do' know whut mammy
Done saved up fu' him*
Dey '11 be banjo picking
Dancin' all night th'oo.
Dey 11 be lots o' chicken,
Plenty tu'ky, too*
Drams to wet yo' whistles
So 's to drive out chills*
Whut I keer fu' drizzles
Fallin' on de hills?
Jes^ keep t'ings a-hummin'
Spite o^ col' an' showahst
Chris'mus day 's a-comin',
An' all de week is ouahs*
Signs of the Times
Air a-gittin' cool an* coolah,
Frost a-comin' in de night,
Hicka' nuts an' walnuts fallin',
'Possum keepin' out o' sight.
Tu'key struttin' in the ba'nya'd,
Nary step so proud ez his ;
Keep on strutting Mistah Tu'key,
Yo' do' know whut time it is.
7J
Cidah press commence a-squeakin/
Eatin' apples sto'ed away,
Chillun swa'min' 'roun' lak hornets,
Huntin' aigs ermung de hay.
Mistah TVkey keep on gobblin'
At de geese a-flyin' souft
Oomph! dat bird do' know whut's
comin' ;
Ef he did he 'd shet his mouf,
73
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Pum'kin gittin' good an' yallah
Mek me open up my eyes ;
Seems lak it 's a-lookin' at me
Jes' a-la'in' dah sayin' « Pies/' B^
Tu'key gobbler gwine 'roun' blowin',
Gwine 'roun' gibbin' sass an' slack;
Keep on talkin', Mistah Tu'key,
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You ain't seed no almanac
no almanac.
75
Fa'mer walkin' th'oo de ba'nya'd
Seein' how things is comin' on,
Sees ef all de fowls is fatt'nin' —
Good times comin* sho 's you bo'n.
Hyeahs dat turkey gobbler bragging
Den his face break in a smile —
Nebbah min', you sassy rascal,
He 's gwine nab you atter while*
77
Choppin' suet in de kitchen,
Stonin' raisins in de hall,
Beef a-cookin' fu' de mince meat,
Spices groun' — I smell 'em all.
Look hyeah, TVkey, stop dat gob-
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You ain' luned de sense ob feah,
You ol' fool, yo' naik 's in dangah,
' you know Thanksgibbin 's
hyeah ?
79
Time to Tinker 'Roun'
.
Summah 's nice, wif sun a-shinin',
Spring is good wif greens and grass,
An' dey 's some t'ings nice 'bout win-
tah,
Dough hit brings de f reezin' bias' ;
But de time dat is de fines',
Whethah fiel's is green er brown,
Is w'en de rain 's a-po'in'
An' dey 's time to tinker 'roun'.
85
Den you men's de mule's ol' ha'ness,
men's de broken chair*
Oh, dey 's fun inside de co'n-crib,
An' dey's laffin' at de ba'n;
An' dey 's allus some one jokin',
Er some one to tell a ya'n.
Dah fs a quiet in yo' cabin,
Only fu' de rain's sof soun';
So you 's mighty blessed happy
Wen dey's time to tinker 'roun'I
Lullaby
You been bad de livelong day,
Po' little lamb.
Th'owin' stones an' runnin' 'way,
Po' little lamb.
My, but you 's a-runnin' wil',
Look jes' lak some po' folks chile ;
Mam' gwine whup you atter while,
Po' little lamb.
99
Mammy do' fcno\
Ef de chillun's all lak
You fs a caution now
Y'ought to have a right good
Po' little lamb.
You been runnin* roun' \
A Banjo Song
J07
Oh, dere 's lots o' keer an' trouble
In dis world to swaller down ;
An' ol' Sorrer 's purty lively
In her way o' gittin' roun'*
Yet dere 's time when I f urgit 'em, -
Aches an' pains an' troubles all, •
An' it 's when I tek at ebenin'
My ol' banjo f'om de wall*
111
An' above de shady hilltops
I kin see de settin' sun ;
When de auiet. restful shadders
Den my fam'ly gadders roun' me
In de fadin* o' de light,
Ez I strike de strings to try 'em
Ef dey all is tuned er-right.
An' it seems we 're so nigh heaben
We kin hyeah de angels sing
When de music o' dat banjo
Sets my cabin all er-ring.
H5
An' my wife an' all de othahs, —
Male an' female, small an' bi$
Even up to gray-haired granny,
Twell I change de style o' music
Change de movement an' d
An' de ringin' little banjo
n ol' hea't-feelin' hii
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An' somehow my th'oat gits choky,
An' a lump keeps tryin' to rise
Lak it wan'ed to ketch de water
Dat was flowin' to my eyes ;
An' I feel dat I could sorter
Knock de socks clean off o' sin
Ez I hyeah my po' ol' granny
Wif huh tremblin' voice jine in.
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Den we all th'ow in our voices
Fu' to he'p de chune out too,
Lak a big camp-meetin' choiry
Tryin' to sing a mou'nah th'oo.
An' our th'oats let out de music,
Sweet an' solemn, loud an' free,
_, r n i e 1 » 1 »
Twell de rattans o my cabin
Echo wif de melody*
\2\
1
Oh, de music o' de banjo,
Quick an' deb'lish, solemn, slow,
Is de greates' joy an' solace
Dat a weary slave kin know !
So jes' let me hyeah it ringing
Dough de chune be po' an' rough,
It 's a pleasure ; an' de pleasures
O' dis life is few enough*
123
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blessed
heaben,
nothin'
Now I think heaben td be mo' homelike
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